Jun Noh on his play Things Between Heaven and Earth

You’ve written, produced and star in this show – so tell us a bit about how it came into being?

I don’t usually start a story from a single image, but in this case, I had a clear vision of (the widow) May’s face at the end of the play, which sparked my inspiration. It felt like I was working backward, trying to understand what led her to that emotional state. As I pieced everything together, it was like assembling a puzzle with various writing seeds I’d collected over the years but hadn’t yet used. One such seed was my reaction when I found out about [Billy Elliot movie director] Stephen Daldry’s marriage, which contributed to the overall picture.

What do you think the play says most prominently to audiences?

The play delves into a variety of themes such as East Asian culture, religious faith, sexual fluidity, the grief of losing a loved one, the creative process as an artist and redemption, among others. Without giving too much away, one of the central themes is atonement, which is explored in depth throughout the story.

What fascinates you most about our identities, both public and private, and the impact different societies have on what is acceptable and what must be concealed?

As someone who grew up across various countries and cultures, I often found myself ‘switching’ — adjusting everything from my accent and vocabulary to my attitudes towards elderly people and my body language. Language isn’t just a tool for communication; it also reveals our values, vulnerabilities, and the aspects of ourselves that we might prefer to keep hidden. As an actor, knowing yourself is essential for crafting and distinguishing a character that is separate from your own identity. You also get used to managing a ‘public persona’. Take Eric in the play, for instance —he’s a renowned writer with a significant ego that comes with the fame. The danger is that you can become overwhelmed by these various personas. We often see politicians and celebrities go through dramatic changes over time, usually in negative ways.

Do you feel ingrained attitudes to sexuality have the potential to shift in a more progressive direction in every part of the world?

Absolutely. I’ve read several articles noting that over 30% of Gen Z adults now identify as LGBTQ. Some experts predict that in 30 years, more than 10% of all American adults could identify as LGBTQ, which is quite remarkable. Given the long life expectancy of the so-called ‘silent’ generations, this shift might not occur overnight. However, the influence of younger voters will likely accelerate change, especially in Western countries. In contrast, the situation is more complex in other parts of the world, particularly in regions dominated by orthodox religious beliefs and governments that align with them. These areas might experience a slower and more challenging shift in attitudes. One of the themes the play explores is the tension between conservative immigrant communities and a more progressive society, examining how these groups navigate their identities independently.

You explore the ethics of writers using other people’s lives in their work; in light of the recent legal furore over Netflix hit Baby Reindeer, do you think attitudes are changing in this regard too? What constitutes ethical portrayals?

In the case of Baby Reindeer, the argument is that the writer drew heavily from real-life experiences without permission. However, this isn’t as unusual as it might seem; many writers barrow elements from their own lives into their work. The real question is whether it’s possible to craft a narrative completely free from the influence of one’s own memories and experiences—a philosophical dilemma that has been debated for ages. The legal drama surrounding the show likely came more from its popularity than from the actual content. It’s rare for a writer to receive such extensive media attention, particularly when the story focuses on a single antagonist. Given this level of exposure, it’s understandable that there would be significant advice and pressure to pursue legal action. While the potential impact on those around writers is real, I see it more as an individual issue. We can’t really pressure writers to avoid using their personal experiences or dictate their ethical decisions, as art isn’t meant to be agitprop. Sometimes, art acts as a disruptive force, raising questions rather than offering clear answers. So, I have mixed feelings on this issue. Writers aren’t a monolith; they’re all unique creators of their own worlds. But it can become a form of self-cannibalism if you end up rehashing your own life experiences too extensively.

Why do you feel Camden Fringe (and indeed Edinburgh, later in the summer) is a good setting for this particular work?

Fringe audiences are known for their open-mindedness towards new writing. I’ve recently discovered that Kim’s Convenience, which later became a successful sitcom, started out as a Camden fringe play. While the fringe scene can be hit or miss, it’s often where you find hidden gems among less polished works. I believe the piece is strong enough on its own, and the fringe audience will appreciate it even without the high production values of a West End show. In fact, some productions don’t require an extravagant setting; sometimes, too much ‘glitz’ can be distracting.

Anything else you’d like people to know about the show?

A play isn’t quite the same as literature; it often doesn’t make much sense on the page alone without the experience of seeing it performed. Each person might have a different reaction to the themes and layers of the show. That’s what makes theatre so compelling. If any of the themes resonate with you, please come and have a chat with us after the performance, because you complete the circle. Check out Jun Noh’s Camden Fringe play this month and if you enjoyed this article, check out Camdenist for more.